The Busman
by writersz cramp
Summary: A wizard, as a BUS DRIVER! The world's ending! Join Ron Weasley on a nightly trip, who found-- AHAH! Find it out INSIDE! I'm really bad at summary.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Hello! This is my third attempt at a Fan-Fiction--Don't be hard on me... -doggy eyes- Anyways. I was really planning to write a one-shot (I have a weird love for one-shots--easier to write I guess. :) But as a writer would tell you, words keep pouring out and I simply could not stop. So forgive me for the lengthy descriptions. :[ So... ENJOY!!! **

The minute Ron Weasley stumbled into his shabby, old bedroom, the unmistakable delighted screeching of Pig Jr. pierced his ears._ I knew I shouldn't have Hermione taking Pig to breed_, he thought wearily, palms clapped to his ears, as he crossed the room, _this young man here is as bloody annoying as his dad. _One should get a gigantic steak, with steaming lobster soup as a reward after scrubbing the kitchen floor for two hours. You could eat off the shiny, mirror-like kitchen floor.

He collapsed on his sagging bed and stretched out his legs, yawning open-mouthed, not even bothering to cover his mouth, as Hermione would have insisted every time he yawned. _Hermione_. A jolt of dull longing shot through him as he thought of his wild, bushy-haired best friend. By thinking of this wild, bushy-haired girl, his thoughts wandered to a certain bespectacled, black-haired young man.

The longing resting somewhere in his stomach gave a funny turn when he pictured his two best friends in the Great Hall of Hogwarts, in class, under the shade of a tree in the grounds, in the Quidditch pitch. _Without him._

He suppressed a moan of agony as the picture of the high stands, a circular ground and ten-foot high hoops entered his head. He missed Quidditch the most; here, back in Burrow, the twins wouldn't have time to play Quidditch with 'ickle Ronnikins' and Ginny would have nothing to do with Quidditch ever since her last boyfriend announced that he would not have a 'wild, sweaty he-girl as a girlfriend', last year. Ron didn't recall who exactly that poor, unfortunate boy was; Ginny had been kind of a "fastie" ever since Harry and she didn't work out _quite_ as well as she expected.

Ginny, being Ginny, dumped the poor guy unceremoniously in the middle of the Great Hall, not to mention in front of everyone. Of course, being her brother, Ron has to agree with a fuming Ginny that yes, that bastard was as worthy as a puddle of goo and yes, he wasn't even worth of receiving her infamous Bat-Bogey Hex. However, despite of his agreements, he would have objected if his girlfriend were playing Quidditch all the time. He remembered one time…

_Anyway_. That wasn't important. What was, though, was his current situation. The reason why he, along with Ginny, Fred and George, in fact, the whole Weasley clan, had to stay at home, while the whole Hogwarts population was where they were supposed to be—Hogwarts, was that Percy (The Humongous Bighead, as his siblings still called him) was getting married to a Muggle girl, much to his dad's excitement.

According to the family tradition, the whole family had to stay put in the Burrow and be vegetarians for a whole blasted month! It was supposed to be some twisted family tradition. _More like some old country superstitions,_ Ron thought darkly as he glared up at the dark ceiling, his stomach growling in protest. That was simply ridiculously pathetic. It occurred to him that they didn't retire as hermits for Bill and Fleur's wedding, before the War. Ron scowled. That did not help at all.

A blaze of anger suddenly flowed through him. Why should he stay put in Burrow when all his other friends are enjoying themselves at Hogwarts? Not to mention the wonderful, mouth-watering steak pies they served every Thursday in dinner, and the bacon and eggs they always had for breakfast, the mounds of food the House Elves willingly present to him as he stepped into the school kitchens...

Stop _thinking_ about _food_. Ron mentally slapped himself and shook his head fervently. He stopped suddenly, open-mouthed, head cocked, his eyes trained on a shimmering piece of fabric on his bed, looking just like a pool of liquid mercury in the middle of his bright orange Chudley Cannons bedspread. Harry had owled him his cloak the minute he heard Ron was expected to survive on broccoli and carrot sticks for a whole month, despite of Hermione's half-hearted protests. _Go get some decent food with it,_ Harry had scrawled on the piece of paper pinned to the cloak.

Slowly, a plan began forming in his head. _I won't be missed for an hour or two,_ Ron calculated. He grinned, tucking his wand into his back pocket. He scooped up the Invisibility Cloak in one fluid movement and drew it around him, disappearing in the darkness, much to Pig Jr.'s bewilderment.

Ron breathed deeply as he silently let himself out of the kitchen window and into the spick and span yard, tidied for Percy's wedding. Fresh air never felt the same if you had been cooped up with two maniacs of brothers who thought it would be a splendid idea to wake their little brother up with a Puking Pasty and a hyperactive, overly protective mother for two whole weeks. It _can_ be fatal at some times.

He let himself out of the gate silently, careful not to make any squeaks or groans from the rickety gate. Thank Merlin that I oiled it yesterday, Ron grinned and almost skipped down the dirt road.

He planned to go downtown, where shops and restaurants were still open in this time of the night. Ron believed there was a highly convenient place called 7-Eleven in the middle of the Raymond Square. George, Fred and him bewildered the shopkeeper once by presenting the fist-sized, golden Galleon. Ron grinned at the memory.

He stopped at the curb, glancing at the bus stop sign from while to while, a circular sign on top of a rusty, slightly peeling metal rod. Ron contemplated whether to take off his cloak. Better not. Some inquisitive old woman might see him and report him to his Mum. He craned his neck at the direction of faint grunting of a bus and smiled smugly to himself. So far his plan had worked.

Around the curve of the road, strong headlights came before the actual bus rounded the corner. Ron's eyes passed the red and blue vehicle carelessly then riveted back, attentive. His mouth dropped open. Wait a second--was that Severus _Snape_ in the driver's seat? Ron's eyes widened as the bus slowly came to a stop in front of him and the doors slowly 'swooshed open. Then he realized he was standing at a bus stop. The bus was merely stopping for passengers. Without another thought, Ron slipped quickly through open doors. Snape didn't even blink.

It was almost midnight, so the bus was empty save one wizened, shrunken old man hunched beside the driver. Ron settled down silently a few rows behind the old man, head buzzing with questions. Why would Snape, the potions master of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, conduct buses in the middle of nowhere?

Suddenly, it all clicked. Into a few days of school, Hermione had sent a detailed letter to the Burrow, and one of the lengthy paragraphs had caught his interest (Ron preferred Harry's letters—Hemione's were too long and educational.

_Hey Ron! _The paragraph had said_, guess what! Snape's been fired this week! Harry overheard Lavender saying to Patil that she heard McGonagall said that Dumbledore said Snape was under too much stress (probably the after-effects of the War, poor dear) and some first years had been pestering him. Don't worry too much—Snape's not a Death Eater! He's packing his bags right now; I heard that Draco Malfoy saying to Parkinson._

Then it turned to some paranoid worries of Hermione whether she had passed the Potions test or not, and Ron kind of skimmed over the rest of the letter after that.

Ron smiled broadly at the memory of the yellowish parchment his best friend had sent him. Only Hermione Granger would declare a fired Snape as a "poor dear" and getting into all the details about who overheard who saying to who that who heard who said that who said Snape was fired… Harry would have scribbled a hasty "Snape's over" and let Ron imagine the rest; what would have happened to Snape? Died? Gone crazy? Married? Plus who would refer Draco bloody Malfoy by his given name? There's only one Malfoy anyway. "Ferret" would be sufficient, not to mention, shorter.

The said Snape was carefully stirring the bus around a corner, his black (Ron swore they were oilier than he had last seen them) eyebrows furrowed and mouth opened in drool concentration. Ron glanced at the reflection of his ex-Potions master and suppressed a chortle. Snape in Muggle world was definitely not a good idea.

Ron went through another painful suppression of a torrent of laughter as Snape wrinkled his nose, almost crossed-eyed as he slowed the bus to a stop beside a giggling couple. Ron entertained himself with the facial changes of Snape for a minute before a thoroughly wicked plan entered his head and occupied him for the next ten minutes.

_Living with two tricksters and the owner of Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes certainly paid off,_ the amused teenager thought as he glanced at rear mirror, _I'm going to make your life hell, Severus Snape._

The silently snickering teenager hopped off the next stop and Apparated home to the Burrow, stomach long forgotten and his mind buzzing, undoubtedly, with punishments he thought suitable for a certain Severus Snape.

He slipped into his brothers' bedroom silently, still wearing his Cloak. He grabbed a Puking Pasty lying on the table and bore down on his two deeply asleep twin brothers, a grin stretched on his freckled face.

**So. How's it? Review or you'll receive the exact pranks Ronnikin's going to bestow on his beloved Potion's (sorry, ex) master, plus some more from a livid fan fic writer. :l Go on, go on!! REVIEW!!! PEOPLE!!!!!! -Fingernails scratching on a primary school blackboard-  
And also, can you guys give me some suggestions about what pranks Ron can give to Snape on a bus? That's right, I'm not sure about the next chapter's plot. Go on, laugh at me!! -sniff sniff- **

**-wc  
**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Hey! This is my second chapter: Enjoy! : )**

Never tickle a sleeping dragon.

Certainly never, _ever_ ambush (or tickle) two sleeping tricksters of brothers in the middle of the night.

"Ron, have you learned your lesson? Have you?" Fred reprimanded his younger brother, perching on the windowsill of his bedroom, late afternoon sun streaming in like rich molten gold. The said Ron was lying on the wooden floor, mouth gaping like a goldfish, cross-eyed and obviously in need of oxygen.

"_Have you_? Hmm?" A replica of the first speaker interrupted, sprawled lazily on the top bunk. His wand twitched casually and Ron's face, previously a maroon color, deepened into puce.

"The next time we catch you—" Fred waggled his fingers, eyebrows drawn together comically.

"—which we will—" George winked at his counterpart.

"—I assure you we most certainly will—" Fred nodded solemnly.

"Stop copying my lines, my dear _Fwed_—" George sat up straight in his bed and smashed his head into the ceiling with a resounding crash. Dust on the ceiling floated forlornly to the ground. Mrs. Weasley would have had a heart attack if she had been here, seeing her precious ceiling paint chipped and her son's head unaffected. Ron let out a strangled cackle that would've been laughter if he didn't seem like he was suffocating.

"--And you stop calling me that—" Fred regarded his twin in the same solemn, headmaster-y air. Ron was still doubled over with mirth, despite of his chance of dying due to lack of air. As we know and Ron didn't, laughing require a _lot _of breathing.

"—Which I won't." George had recovered from his smash and jumped off the bunk, shaking the room as his one-hundred-and-fifty-pounds body hit the floor.

"Ron we're talking to you—" Fred suddenly snapped at his youngest brother from his perch, his cool façade vanishing immediately.

"—don't space out—" George sprang up like a jack-in-the-box, startling Ron so much that he choked, if that was even possible, given that he was already light-headed from his laughs.

"--the next time you do that—" Fred piped cheerily, following a blonde girl on the road with his eyes through the window.

"—'That' means scaring the innocence in their sleeping—" George put it helpfully. Fred tore his eyes from the girl and glowered at him. _Innocence is what you'll never be, my dearest brothers,_ Ron said sweetly in his head.

"--you'll have more'n a few bruises..." Fred finished his sentence as he slipped off the sill and joined his twin in front of Ron. Fred's mood swings are frighteningly quick and sudden. _Hah, that's hardly 'a few bruises',_ Ron thought darkly.

"My _dear _Ronnikins." They finished dramatically in speech-voices, and immediately started slapping each others' back, grinning from ear to ear.

Ron sighed. He never knew asking Fred and George for help would require so much bodily sacrifice. So far, he had been booby-trapped, experimented on Ear-Twitching Pasties, thwacked in the head, almost suffocated, and he still hadn't delivered his message.

He raised his voice and cut through yet another "You're the bestest!". "Oi! Fwed! Goh-ji!" The twins' head swiveled simultaneously, eyes flashing dangerously, at the source of their shameful nicknames, all congratulations forgotten.

"For the sake of Merlin," Ron snapped, "Listen to me!" "No I won't," muttered George. "I saw Snape driving the local bus!" He paused for a dramatic effect, but the two identical giants just raised their eyebrows at each other, then turned and stared blankly at him. "Look," he tried to explain, "We can prank him! As far as I know, he doesn't have his wand on him! Fred, George, help me…Please?"

George beamed and jumped in not a second later. "Thought you'd never say the magic word!"

"Brilliant idea, Ron!" Fred clapped him on his back not unlike the ones Hagrid used to give him.

"Never thought you'd be so smart--" George's eyes are shining and he was looking at Ron as if he were a particularly intriguing experiment.

"Must've taken it of us!" Fred yelled in joy. The ridiculous twins started patting each other on the back again and sprouted nonsense congratulations.

Ron rolled his eyes, shuffled towards the desk and pulled a piece of parchment towards him.

"So, what are we gonna do on his bus?" He asked the two twins. He picked up his wand and twirled it idly; it turned into a limp rubber spider with a sickening squelch. He screamed in shock and the twins snickered. Ron sighed and grabbed his quill. First teddy bears, now wands. Good thing the quill was still his quill.

"Imagination, come again?" Ron scowled at the George.

He shrugged. "At least we scared _you_," He leaned over and picked up the spider, making a show of dangling its stringy legs in front of Ron's petrified face.

_Fine_.

"Number one, trick…wands…" He looked around at his brothers, both leaning over his shoulders to peer at his writing. "What else?"

"A loudspeaker." George piped up immediately, twirling the rubber spider rapidly in a circle by one of its numerous legs over Ron's head.

Ron tried not to stare. "What the heck is a—a lauspike?" He twisted in his seat to look at George and got a faceful of spider legs. He suppressed a shudder and muttered, "You just bloody stop it."

Fred made contact with Ron's head with a stinging smack. "Just write it down, you moron!" He jabbed at the space under Ron's "Trick wands" "Hurry if you wanta do this tomorrow night!"

Ron rubbed his eyes with his left fist and his head with his right. "Good point," He muttered and scrawled down "loudspeaker" messily, his left fist still covering his eyes. George massaged Ron's head mock-tenderly as he wrote, winking at Fred all the time. At least the massage kept the pain away.

"Do you think Snape hates spiders too?" Fred murmured dreamily, levitating the spider in mid-air and_ Engorgio_-ing it into the size of a huge rat and a small cat. The spider's rubber legs stretched in the effort and George reached over, grinning. He _pink_ed the taut plastic with his fingernail, frowning, miming professionalism and finally nodded. "Definitely." He said in a gravelly voice.

Ron's head was buried in his notes and his whole body was shuddering visibly.

"By the way," George added casually, "A loudspeaker is like a _Sonorus_ charm, only it emits hideous squeaks that the charm simply _cannot_." He smiled a wistful smile and poked Ron in the back, "Get on with the work! Put down 'spider'too."

By the nine-o'clock that night, the list was done, without detection from either their Mum nor nosy Percy "Humougous Bighead". Ron grinned triumphantly in bed that night. He didn't expect the plan to go so smoothly. But seeing it was Fred and George, the world's lousiest plan would be ingenious in their hands.

The things needed were ready by mid-afternoon the next day. The pranksters were ready, at last.

A certain greasy-haired, hook-nosed bus driver was waiting for his death sentence.

Call an ambulance.

Contact his nearest kin.

Ron couldn't wait.

**A/N: How was it? Review!! : )**

**-wc **


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